


Coming home

by thedarkmoon



Series: fma college 'verse [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Beginnings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of attempted date rape, More tags to be added, Panic Attacks, idiots being idiots, mentions of trauma, though not the boys its a side character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-07 11:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20974964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedarkmoon/pseuds/thedarkmoon
Summary: Ed's an idiot, and while Roy doesn't necessarily understand, he tries. (currently under rewrite, see chap 2 endnotes)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So! No fill for kinktober tonight, cause I got inspired elsewhere. This is set in the semester immediately after the one where Roy teaches Ed, and is my way of kind of explaining how they got together together? Also, this was intended all along but I realize my other fics in this 'verse didn't mention it, but like canon Ed, this Ed is an amputee. This will either be two or three chapters, with the third chapter hinging on whether or not theres going to be sex. This first chapter is kind of heavy and does mention the drugging and attempted rape of an unnamed OC, though it does not go into explicit detail and she is safe and sound in the end.

They’d been dancing around it since finals week, when Ed had awkwardly written his number at the bottom of the question section of his test. It wasn’t like Roy had TAs to be worried about, the man did his own grading and Ed was pretty sure from all the time he’d spent in office hours with the man that he was reading the situation correctly. Didn’t dispel the butterflies he felt, but he got to leave right after rather than watch. And it was out of his hands. 

***

The first time Ed visited Roy, it was a dreary day in January, muddy snow in the streets and a gray sky blotting out any prayer of sunshine. He dropped to his knees as soon as the door was shut, fumbling for Roy’s dick while the man was swearing and gasping. He didn’t take any of his clothes off. Not that time, or the next. 

Eventually though, Roy got fed up with Ed refusing to let him get close, and that’s really when they started to play, when Roy would get possessive and mean, pin Ed to the door and jerk him off with his hands pinned above his head. Ed still refused to let Roy take his clothes off. 

*** 

It was mid March when things came to a head. The weather was still shitty, warming up for a couple of days before dumping more heavy, wet snow to clog the streets and make commuting to class a nightmare. Ed hated the cold, the way it made his leg ache, the way the sidewalks were almost impossible to traverse. He shouldered through it, though, like he shouldered through his childhood, through military deployment and the accident, through recovery and now this. Ed didn’t know how to do anything else, so he persevered. 

He’d been spending more and more time in that basement apartment, which frankly had better heating than his shabby dorm room and came with Roy, who could not only match him in wit and brilliance, but in knowing exactly what it felt like to be a loser in the world of war. Ed learned about his military career, about the crimes in Ishval that he’d been forced to commit, about what happened to Maes Hughes. Ed, for the most part, told the truth, except for why he didn’t complete his tour. And for the most part, Roy didn’t ask. 

Until he did.

***

“Why can’t I take your clothes off?” Roy finally asked him, pulling back and out of Ed’s space, putting an entire cushion of couch between them.

“I-” Ed didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t look at Roy, something dark and black clawing its way up his chest and through his throat. It’d been two months, two months of him sucking Roy off, letting him come on his face, jerking him off, whatever, just to keep his clothes on. Because while he knew rationally everything had to have an end somewhere, he just didn’t want this to. Not here, not now.

“Ed, look at me.” The gentleness in the voice surprised him, because he’d expected to be thrown out, and it made him cautiously look up, hiding behind the bangs that had come out of his ponytail. He found no anger, no frustration in Roy’s face; instead he looked almost…..worried. Concerned. And it made something in Ed snap.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he was off the couch, stuffing his arms in the sleeves of his jacket backwards because thats how he picked it up, and out the door before Roy could stop him. The cold was bracing, and it took a couple of blocks before Ed realized the reason his cheeks were stinging was because they were wet.

He didn’t want sympathy, especially not from him.

***

Ed didn’t go to class that week, didn’t go to the dining hall, barely left his room except to get the shitty takeout he ordered when the gnawing pain in his stomach was to hard to ignore. Instead, in lieu of doing anything, he did what he knew best. Repetition after repetition, minute by minute, he marked time by how many reps he could do, how many sit ups before he felt faint, how many push ups it took before he arms were shaky and tired.

And finally, when he felt he could do no more, he slept. Because that was the only thing that ever dulled anything.

***

It took exactly one visit from the campus resource officer for Ed to get off his ass and back into class. Sure, it was just a “wellness check”, but he knew that if he failed this semester his financial aid would dry up and he’d be scrambling to figure out what to do to keep himself off the street. Ed didn’t think his chances would fair so well, all told. While he was good at survival, if he had nothing to live for, would he even try?

He knew, objectively, that Mustang and Armstrong knew each other, in the way that all professors who shared a department did. Armstrong had even stopped by once or twice last semester during Mustang’s office hours, wherein Ed left as soon as was humanly possible, secretly loving the betrayed look he got as he left Roy to listen to whatever regaling tale the retired Colonel decided to tell. (He only had a half dozen or so, but he never seemed to remember who he had told what.)

So it was only natural, Ed guessed, that maybe Armstrong, with all his pushy fatherly instincts, would tell Mustang that Ed had missed two of his classes. Maybe it was an in passing thing, though the number of calls Ed was rejecting spoke more to the idea that Armstrong had said more than he should’ve.

After about the tenth call, the guilty pit in Ed’s stomach felt more like a lead weight than something ignorable. And so what if he wandered down past the rest of the college students, partying along the bar street on a Friday night, down to the last business front, where neon lights glowed. He’d never actually been inside, Roy had always told him to come around back, though he’d also mentioned that he was renting the basement from his aunt who ran the hostess bar.

Inside there weren’t actually that many patrons, and Ed immediately felt out of place. It wasn’t in your face, the outward appearance looking for all intents and purposes just like one of the other dozen bars on the street. But he could see down a hallway flashing colorful lights, hear the music dimly. Of those in the front room, several openly stared at him while he stood there, trying to wrestle with the panic in his chest about whether he should just turn around and leave.

“Can I help you?” A woman, tall and broad, with inky black hair like Roy’s, asked him from behind the bar. She waved him closer, and it was as if it was some sort of code, because suddenly no one way paying attention to him. He was intensely grateful, for the first time in his life, to be able to sidle up to a bar pretending he wanted something to drink.

“I-uh, well,” Ed fumbled, not having though much farther than this, because he hadn’t wanted to go knocking on Roy’s door after ignoring him, but he didn’t know what to say either. He wasn’t anything to Roy, and the realization of that hit him hard.

“Ed?” Ed whipped his head around so fast he could feel the slap of his hair against the side of his face. Roy was standing behind him, a blonde thing in something tight and shimmery hanging off his arm. Ed felt his face flush, feeling so stupid, and so, so young. He was still trying to come up with something witty to say, something unexpected maybe so that he could leave without having to actually have a conversation when he realized that Roy was talking still, not to him, but to the woman behind the bar.

“-she probably just needs to sleep it off, I called the cops but, this is something else important, if you could give me-”

“Deal with your personal problems on your own time, Roy,” his aunt said as she came out from around the bar. “You can have five minutes, but since you’re the one who saw it, you have to deal with this issue.” She waved her hand to encapsulate the girl, who while looking belligerent at being called an issue, Ed realized, she wasn’t standing under her own power. He also realized that his timing probably couldn’t have been worse.

Roy turned back to Ed and there was something Ed couldn’t read in his expression. Ed opened his mouth to tell him it wasn’t important, but Roy shook his head and pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it into Ed’s hand. “Just, don’t leave this time, ok? I don’t know how long this other stuff is going to take but-” There were flashing lights outside and Ed knew Roy had to deal with it.

Outside, Ed passed by the cop car who lights were still strobing even though their occupants were inside the bar now. He’d realized that what Roy had pressed into his hand was a key, and he assumed that meant he wanted him to go down into the basement. So Ed went.

Once he was there, though, he had no idea what to do. As a child, Ed might’ve been tempted to snoop, look through all the books and things, interested in learning about everything he could get his hands on. But that felt wrong. It also felt wrong to be on the couch, or in Roy’s chair, or on any of the other furniture. It felt too intimate somehow, felt too much like he belonged here, like he felt he deserved a place here. He contemplated leaving, but it was cold, and he knew his dorm would be even colder.

In the end, Ed sat against the couch, shoes off, jacket on, resting his head back on the cushions, staring up at the water marked ceiling. As he waited, he wondered exactly where he’d gone wrong, for this to be where the universe put him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies, I know I said I'd have this up Sunday, but between my seasonal depression and the fact that my mother needed me to make baked goods for her office today I got behind. There is gonna be a third chapter eventually, however none of it is written yet. Thought I'd at least give y'all something.

Ed hadn’t realized he’d even fallen asleep until there was a light flickering on, the hazy yellow too bright for his bloodshot eyes. His neck felt stiff and he could feel where an old wound ached in his shoulder from his impromtou nap in such a terrible position. Roy looked older, far older than Ed remembered, lines etched deep in his face. But there was something soft there too.

“I honestly didn’t expect you to stay.” He said, then there was a frown. “Why are you on the floor?”

Ed flushed, and decided to ignore the question by shooting back with on of his own, “Where would I have left your key?”

Roy laughed then, and stepped forward, reaching out his hands to pull Ed upright, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed between them. But Ed was still stiff, and he knew there needed to be a conversation, he just didn’t know how. He didn’t even know if Roy still cared, though he’d realized while he was waiting that the girl probably wasn’t someone Roy was sleeping with.

“Armstrong told me he heard through the rumor mill that someone did a wellness check on you.” Roy said carefully, and Ed’s stomach dropped. So they were starting with the hard stuff right away then.

“I was fine,” Ed muttered, pulling out of Roy’s grasp, looking away.

“Yeah, and I called the cops tonight for a good time,” Roy snapped, and it made Ed’s anger flare and there was an angry retort on the tip of his tongue before Roy hastily continued, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, this isn’t what I wanted to do. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ed looked back at Roy, for a moment, before swallowing hard. He was bad at all these emotions, bad at whatever this was supposed to be. He wished he could fight, wished they would because maybe then he might be able to feel something else other than shame and fear.

“What’s going through that big brain of yours, huh?” Roy asked him, quietly, trying for the teasing tone he used to use when Ed was frustrated, but it came out softer, gentler. Like something Al would say. And Ed suddenly felt very, very small.

“I-,” he started, coughed, and tried again, “I-i don’t know how to do this. Any of it. I don’t know how to talk to you about…….everything.”

Roy huffed a laugh, and Ed shot him a glare, and suddenly everything felt better, lighter, and they were both laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.Roy pushed past Ed, and sat on the couch and pulled him down with him, tucking an arm around him and pulling him close. It felt wonderful, and Ed was allowing himself to be cautiously optimistic.

“Is that why you left and have been ignoring me?” Roy asked, and it sucked the good feelings away again. The panic from earlier was back, fluttering in his chest like something trying to get out.

“I, no.No, that's not it,” Ed hedged, his voice stronger than he felt. The panic was rising again and he suddenly felt too close, like Roy could see into his soul and so he got up, went and stood by the bookcase, and he knew he probably looked like a lunatic, but this conversation was too hard-

“Ed. What’s wrong?” He heard Roy get up from the couch and his anxiety spiked again and he felt close to hysterics. He shouldn’t have come, this was a stupid idea, at the very least he shouldve left while he’d had the out, or something. 

“Edward, look at me.” And there was the voice, the one that brooked no argument, the one that should’ve been made a general but hadn’t. And it grounded him, and he did what was asked of him, looking at Roy, let him look at his face and read the panic there, the fear, the pain. Let him see this side of him he hid from everyone, even from Al and Winry and Granny. Because never, not once, had Roy betrayed him when he used that voice.

“Tell me whats going on, Ed.” Roy came closer, and it took all of Ed’s willpower to not back up, to keep looking him in the face despite the way his heart felt like it was trying to break out of his chest through his ribs.

“I-uh,” Ed swallowed, coughed, swallowed again and decided he’d rather face damnation than going back out the door without at least knowing. “It’d-it’d probably be easier to show you.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, and his arms crossed as Ed’s hands dropped to his belt, unbuckling it. Ed wanted to look anywhere else but he was holding onto the fact that Roy had told him to look at him, and he shucked off his pants. He watched as Roy looked, and for a moment he thought he was going to be laughed at, when that same look of sympathy from before stretched across Roy’s face.

From mid thigh, Ed of course had no left leg. It was probably obvious, he walked with a strange gait and sometimes if it was quiet you could hear the woosh of the automail. But Roy had never mentioned it, and Ed just...didn’t tell people. Never told anyone about how on his first mission he’d pushed someone else out of the way and take the brunt of the blast and ended his career. How he’d spent months recovering in a different country, not even telling his best friend who made her money in automail. Al, of course, knew, but Ed had done everything he could to shield his little brother from the world after their mother had died. He never talked about it with him. And Al never brought it up.

“I know its stupid, and that everyone else probably knows, and it was stupid to make such a big deal out of nothing, but-” Ed rushed headlong into it, the dam bursting because thats how he  _ was _ , but Roy held up a hand and he cut himself off, clamping his mouth shut with an audible click.

“I didn’t.” Roy said, and Ed could feel the sincerity in it. Ed was still watching Roy’s face, and he watched the emotions flit across, but he couldn’t parse what they meant. He could feel the embarrassment starting, and he finally looked away, feeling ridiculous with his pants around his ankles because he couldn’t just say things like an adult-

“Ed.” He looked up again and it was only looking at Roy’s face again that he realized that there were tears in his eyes, unshed and making everything glassy and muddled. “I-shit, just come here. Please.”

And Ed went. Pulled close to Roy’s chest, pressed close where he smelled of cologne and sweat, and there was something sour, like spilled alcohol. For the first time since he was a child he felt safe, sheltered, and the tears poured forth, not caring if Roy thought him weak. Though if the small noises Roy was making were anything to go by, he didn’t, his hand coming up to gentle in Ed’s hair, pressing him closer than he already burrowed.

Roy moved them to the couch, and Ed all but clambered in his lap when prompted, kicking his legs out of his pants awkwardly. The tears kept coming, but it didn’t feel like his usual panic attacks, where the sobbing would wind up and up until he was hysterical. This was more mellow, almost like he was cleaning, clearing out all of the unshed tears he’d never let fall. And Roy held him, making noises of comfort, but bless him he just let Ed be in ways no one else ever had. 

“I’m sorry,” Ed finally said as the tears dried up, feeling awkward and guilty now, but he found himself held in place.

“For what?” Roy asked him, fingers gently coming to turn Ed’s face towards him. “Being human?”

Ed let out an undignified snort, and when he turned away, Roy let him. “For being a drama queen.”

“Ed. Stop looking away from me.” Roy’s tone was sharp, and it made Ed’s gut twist with guilt. He looked back, but the expression on Roy’s face wasn’t angry. If anything, it was exasperated, and Ed knew he often had that effect on people. Often took pride in it too.

“Having a panic attack isn’t being a drama queen,” Roy said it so quietly Ed could barely hear him, “especially when its something that obviously means a lot to you.”

Ed made a choked noise, feeling the tears rise again and spill even as he tried to hold them back. Roy just pulled him close again, soft shushing noises, and it dawned then on Ed that Roy must’ve talked to someone, must know how to deal with these things, and it makes him feel childish and like he’s in the wrong place all over again. But he couldn’t make himself draw back and tell Roy that while he appreciates everything, it’s obvious that Ed has no idea what he’s doing and he’ll just save them the heartache and go.

Eventually though, the tears do run out. Completely. Ed feels exhausted, spent. He’s made a dreadful mess of the shirt Roy was wearing, and he doesn’t know quite what to do with this new feeling that was percolating into his brain. It was like the calm after a fight, the way you felt the moment your feet hit home soil. Something was unclenching and Ed didn’t know where he stood anymore.

“You still with me, Ed?” Roy’s voice was quiet, barely a rumble above a whisper. Ed nodded against his chest. “Ok, so heres what we’re going to do. When you feel up to it, your going to go take a shower and use all of the hot water. I’m going to order some takeout, we’re going to eat, and then we’re going to sleep, ok?”

Ed nodded, relieved. Roy knew how to take care of everything, it seemed.And Ed, for better or worse, would follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always find me on [tumblr](https://starlovespatrick.tumblr.com/)  
So! High me had revelations about pacing and structure and whatever and so this is under rewrite. Same premise, same story, just different pacing and whatnot. This will be a rewrite of a bunch of the way that this series is taking place as well, so there will probably be minor changes in timeline in the other stories in this series.

**Author's Note:**

> Horrible cliffhanger, but just so y'all know, I do already have another 1100 words written, its just not complete or edited. Depending on weather, the next chapter may be up in the next couple of days or it will definitely be up Sunday night/the wee hours of monday morning. As always find me on [tumblr](https://starlovespatrick.tumblr.com/) (also like. Feel free to drop by my askbox, I'm a lot more likely to talk to you that way 'cause I've been on tumblr since 2011. The new fangled messaging system terrifies me)


End file.
